


Two recliners. Two rocking chairs.

by caitlesshea



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bunker, Friends to Lovers, Guitars, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 05:59:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18462911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitlesshea/pseuds/caitlesshea
Summary: Alex and Michael are working on this friendship thing. So what happens when Alex realizes Michael's left hand hurts all the time?





	Two recliners. Two rocking chairs.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt on Tumblr from @roswellprompts and I couldn't resist. I'm holding out hope that these two eventually talk about the tool shed. But really, any interaction at this point and I'll be happy.

Alex leans back in the recliner Michael bought for him specifically to put in his alien bunker so Alex would be comfortable while Michael works. Alex shouldn’t like this bunker as much as he does, but it’s his favorite out of the many that they have. _And they have so many._ With its eclectic arrangement of lights and mismatched furniture. He’d never admit this to Michael but he likes his quirky style.

 

He strums his guitar, another gift from Michael, but this one for his birthday. Alex had let it slip that his dad had broken all of his guitars after that day in the toolshed during one of their conversations to get to know each other better. That was months ago, and then on his birthday Michael had gifted him with a new guitar and a green guitar pick that was a little green alien. Alex smiles at the memory.

 

He continues playing while Michael and Liz work on making a serum that lasts longer than the one Liz had already made. It’s an effort to keep Noah awake and talking without having to inject the antidote every twenty four hours. Something that took quite the argument from all of them. Max had wanted Noah dead, Isobel wasn’t talking to anybody, and Michael had wanted answers. It took an intervention from Alex, Liz, and Kyle to convince Max to let Noah tell them about their home planet. To let Michael get the answers he had spent his whole life searching for.

 

Alex and Max do _not_ get along, and that conversation hadn’t helped, but Alex thought Max was a selfish asshole and a terrible brother. _And well, Alex didn’t really care what Max thought about him._ It had all come to a head right after the night they figured out Noah was the fourth alien. Alex had shown up at Isobel’s with Kyle in tow to see everyone already there except Michael. When Alex asked where he was, Liz answered that he took off not long after they got there. What caught Alex’s eye was Max’s guilty expression. Alex left to go find Michael and when he found him at his Airstream with a bloody lip and a bruise around his eye from Max punching him, Alex had nearly lost his shit, but he quickly wrangled it in to tend to Michael. He spent the rest of the night sitting and talking with Michael side by side on his tiny bed, and in the morning he went to Isobel’s and gave Max a piece of his mind. What had started as a screaming match, had ended with Alex telling Max that if he ever hit Michael again, it would be Max’s body they would be burying in the desert. Max had blanched, but then said that if Alex wanted to protect Michael so badly, he should’ve done so when he was attacked by Jesse Manes. Alex had turned around and left Max on his own to deal with a screaming Isobel.

 

So keeping Noah alive and talking was Alex’s silent way of getting Michael his answers without Michael leaving the planet. Although Max didn’t cave until Alex pointed out that they couldn’t kill a respected member of society without raising some red flags.

 

Alex will admit to it being partially selfish on his part. He had given Michael the piece of the ship console he had found in his cabin not long after Michael had first shown the console to him.

 

That conversation had been messy but also liberating. Letting Michael know he wanted him to stay, but that he didn’t know how to make whatever this blossoming friendship was between them into something more. They’re taking things slow. Months of conversations and dinners, small touches and longing looks. Alex was slowly going insane with the need to kiss Michael, but he was also stubborn and he wants to do this the right way.

 

He lets the sounds of the guitar and Michael and Liz bickering wash over him until he hears a curse just as he sees a test tube fall out of Michael’s hand and shatter on the ground.

 

“Shit.” Michael says as he rubs at his scarred hand. Alex is up and out of his recliner as he quickly as he can before thinking about it, to get over to them.

 

“What happened?” Alex asks them.

 

“Nothing. My hand seizes up sometimes. I just dropped the test tube.” Michael answers as he bends down to pick up the bigger pieces.

 

“It happens sometimes. I don’t know why he won’t let me order plastic ones.” Liz levels him with a look that tells Alex she knows _exactly_ why Michael won’t let her.

 

“Cause I don’t need plastic ones. It doesn’t do this very often.” Michael says as he continues massaging his left hand.

 

“Let me.” Alex says gently as he takes over massaging Michael’s hand. Alex has _some_ practice working out cramps and spasms in damaged limbs. Michael hesitates for a second before letting Alex work the tension out of his hand.

 

“How often is often?” Alex asks after Michael starts to relax.

 

“Not very. Usually when I’ve been using it all day.” Michael shrugs like this is no big deal.

 

“Using it all day? You’re a mechanic.”

 

“Well yeah, but I’m right handed. And if I need to use my left hand for something that it can’t do anymore, I use my powers.” Michael starts moving his fingers as he takes his left hand back.

 

“He does use his powers quite a lot.” Liz smirks as Michael sends another test tube across the table to her.

 

“Is that why you drink so much nail polish remover? Because you use your powers more often?” Alex asks Michael after a minute. This is one topic they have steered clear from. Alex knows a coping mechanism when he sees one, and who is he to judge?

 

“No. That’s just a pleasant side effect.”

 

“Then why do you drink so much of it?” Alex can’t help but ask. He realizes, after the look Michael shoots him, that they should probably be having this conversation in private.

 

“Uhh…” Michael hedges and then turns to Liz. She seems to get that this isn’t a conversation that Michael wants to have with her present.

 

“You know what? I’m going to call it a night. I promised Max we could watch a movie.” Liz starts to pack up her stuff and heads out of the bunker.

 

Michael gestures to Alex’s recliner, as Michael sits in his own next to Alex. Alex has, more than once, thought about how nice it would be to have two rocking chairs for them, on the porch outside of his cabin. He’s almost purchased them a couple of times, when they’ve been outside on his porch for hours, drinking beers, and talking. But now is not the time for such daydreams. He shakes his head to clear it and looks at Michael waiting for him to speak.

 

“The acetone is well...my hand, it aches. All the time.” Michael whispers. Alex’s heart clenches. _How did he not know this?_

 

“Why didn’t you?”

 

“Say anything? I don’t know. We never talk about that day. Not really.” Michael shrugs like it doesn’t matter. But it _does_ matter.

 

“I’m sorry.” Alex whispers as he takes Michael’s left hand in his and starts massaging it again.

 

“There’s no reason for you to be. It wasn’t your fault then, and it isn’t your fault now.” Michael says as he leans closer to Alex, so Alex can get a better grip on his hand.

 

‘Michael…”

 

“You’re good at that.” Michael says a little breathless as Alex works on his fingers.

 

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” Alex looks down at his right leg. Michael makes a pained sound.

 

“So have you.” Alex points out and Michael smiles. It’s one of Alex’s favorite moments of the day. When Michael stays late enough to help Alex out of his prosthetic and starts to massage Alex’s leg. Alex should probably take a long, hard look at that habit they’ve developed, but right now he wants to focus on Michael.

 

“It makes you feel better.” Michael shrugs.

 

“You make me feel better.” Alex says before he can stop himself. Michael looks at him and smirks. Another one of Michael’s habits Alex has had to get used to. Not that he minds. Anytime Michael is looking at him, Alex feels a heat in his stomach and a flutter in his chest. _Why are they just friends again?_

 

Michael leans closer to Alex, so close that their foreheads are touching.

 

“Why are we just friends Alex?’ Michael asks him, like he didn’t just pluck that thought right out of Alex’s head.

 

“We needed to get to know each other.” Alex whispers, although that excuse is weak.

 

“We know each other. We always have. Only now I know you’re favorite color and your favorite movie.” Michael chuckles.

 

“Those are important facts.”

 

“Sure they are darlin’.” Michael’s smirking again, but his eyes have gone soft and fond, like they only do for Alex. It weakens the little resolve Alex has.

 

“Michael…” Alex breathes out and then slams his lips into Michael’s. Michael takes his right hand and cups Alex’s cheek and Alex digs his fingers into Michael’s curls. _Finally._

 

Alex moans into his mouth at the first brush of Michael’s tongue on his. The kiss is all consuming fire and passion, but also love, so much love and it leaves him breathless when they break apart.

 

“I’m buying us rocking chairs.” Alex blurts out, like the brain to mouth filter he works hard at perfecting just decides to stop working.

 

“What?” Michael looks at him confused.

 

“Rocking chairs. For my front porch.” Alex says firmly.

 

“Okay darlin’.” Michael smirks and goes to kiss him again. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me on Tumblr - same username!


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